


Le Paradisier

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone Two (The 2nd 100) [27]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 12:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13613535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Napoleon and Illya go to Monte Carlo to discover why Thrush have business at a high class resort.





	Le Paradisier

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 'Once Upon a Time Affair' in Section VII on Live Journal. Everyone's story must begin with the same sentence/paragraph, and follow the given theme. The theme for this story is 'envy'.

With the confidence of any wealthy international jet-setter, Napoleon Solo strode into the lobby of the Monte Carlo ‘Le Paradisier’ resort. Behind him, struggling under the weight of four suitcases, was his partner, who was in the guise of his personal valet. 

Solo, who was always impeccably dressed, was enjoying the wearing an exquisitely hand-stitched black suit which made his own look positively shabby. The handmade shoes he’d been given were unbelievably comfortable, and he made a mental note to get them into his personal possession. At his wrists, his shirt cuffs were joined by a pair of gold cufflinks. Each had a sapphire solitaire set into them, almost mirroring the ring he always wore. These were echoed by another sapphire in the head of the stick pin in his blue silk tie. The whole ensemble was designed to make him look like a man of great wealth.

Illya was wearing a dull brown uniform which clearly marked his position as a servant. 

Reaching the desk, Napoleon flashed his brightest smile at the receptionist and leaned in to read her name badge.

“Good morning, Miss Renard,” he greeted. “I have a suite booked under the name Nathaniel Singleton.”

Maria Renard returned the handsome man’s smile and checked the register. While he waited, Napoleon looked around the lavishly decorated space. Everything told a sumptuous tale of elegance and wealth. You needed a certain level of wealth before you would even be allowed over the threshold, let alone be given access to a suite. Napoleon could almost hear the heart rates of the U.N.C.L.E. accountants speeding up at the cost.

Across the lobby he saw Destiny Samuels, the wife of the man they’d come to investigate. Leo Samuels owned ‘Le Paradisier’, and U.N.C.L.E. had learned he had recently begun associating with Thrush. Samuels, as a ridiculously wealthy man, was just the sort Thrush would try to woo in order to fund their schemes. It was understood that he would be meeting with a Thrush representative that evening. Napoleon didn’t allow his gaze to linger and continued looking around. Anyone observing him would simply see a man admiring his surroundings. 

“I have you here, Mr Singleton,” Miss Renard told him. “You booked a suite, with extra accommodation for your valet. Do you require assistance with your luggage?”

“No, thank you,” Napoleon replied, and gestured vaguely behind him. “My man here can manage just fine.”

Maria looked around Napoleon at the cute blond, who was wearing an expression of resentment. He didn’t look like he was managing at all. In fact, he was so skinny she was surprised he could lift one of the cases, never mind all four. Still, it wasn’t her place to make comment.

“Here is your key, Mr Singleton. You are in suite 415.”

Napoleon thanked her, and flashed another million watt smile. It took everything Illya had not to roll his eyes as, yet another, female melted under his partner’s charms. After the pair had stepped into the elevator, Illya fixed Napoleon with an icy glare.

“Why do you need this much luggage?” he asked. “I know your cover identity is meant to be rich, but this seems unnecessary.”

“Must I remind you, Tovarisch, that some of that belongs to you.”

“Only one of the suitcases, is mine,” Illya retorted. “One of these days, I am going to be the rich playboy and you my flunky.”

Napoleon snorted a laugh.

“Can I help it if I naturally fit this role?”

……………………………………..

In the bar area of the lobby, half hidden by a large palm frond, Destiny Samuels looked over the top of her sunglasses at the two men who had just entered the elevator. She wasn’t particularly interested in the valet. Unlike a many of her society friends, Destiny had no interest in ‘playing with the help’. For her, wealth and power were the greatest aphrodisiac, and the brunet who had just gone up in the elevator seemed steeped in both.

Thanks to her husband, Leo, Destiny led a fabulous life. Her days were spent engaging in socialising, shopping, and sex. Leo was always too busy to pay her any attention, so she had to get her fun elsewhere. Of course, because she was never overly discreet about it, he always discovered what she was up to. He only really stayed married to her because he enjoyed the envious looks he got from having a woman thirty years his junior, but that didn’t mean he was happy for other men to use what was his.

Many rich men passed through the resort and Destiny always kept her eye out for her next bit of fun. The brunet certainly looked like the sort she could have a lot of fun with. She just needed to know who he was first. A quick work with the receptionist told her he was Nathanial Singleton, an international broker in high end property. She also learned he’d booked a table for one in the restaurant for 6pm.

…………………………………….

“Mrs Samuels was in the lobby.” Illya whispered, as he dropped the suitcases and began to sweep the suite for bugs. “That could suggest that her husband is here also.”

“I saw her,” Napoleon replied, joining Illya in the sweep. After several minutes, both agents concluded that all the rooms in the suite were clean. 

“According to her dossier, Mrs Samuels is known to have a wandering eye,” Napoleon continued, at a normal level. “I should be able to get close to her and find out whether her husband has joined the bad guys yet, or not.”

“Be careful,” Illya warned. “I know you like to live dangerously when it comes to women, but Samuels is apparently quite envious that other men can hold his wife’s attention better than he can. He also has the money and connections to stop any such man from being a problem to him ever again.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Solo replied, with a sarcastic smile. “I can look after myself.”

Not bothering to reply, Illya took his suitcase to his small room to unpack. While the rest of the suite was lavish and richly furnished, the valet’s room was a basic box containing a single bed, and a wash stand. The only natural light in the room came from a small transom window above the door. On the back of the door there were two hooks, seemingly the only place for Illya to hang his clothes. It all let the occupier know that their employer was the important one and the comfort of the staff was barely an afterthought. 

Illya didn’t particularly care about the sparseness of the room as he was able to sleep anywhere. Compared to some places he’d actually lived in, the room could almost be considered cosy. Besides, he would simply make use of the facilities in the suite. Accounting rarely stumped up for this level of accommodation, and he was damned if he was going to let Napoleon get all the benefit. 

Returning to the main area, Illya found his partner sprawled out on the bed, with his hands behind his head. The bed could easily have accommodated six people and was covered in gold silk sheets. There was an obscene amount of soft squishy pillows, which made Illya grimace at the thought of the wafer thin pillow on his own bed. None of Napoleon’s belongings had been unpacked and it didn’t look as though they would be any time soon. Illya raised a questioning eyebrow.

“You never know if we’re being observed or not,” Solo told him, with a shrug. “We need to play these parts as accurately as possible.”

Illya didn’t reply. Napoleon was correct, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He strongly suspected that the American was going to take full advantage of their roles.

………………………………….

Napoleon arrived at the restaurant earlier than he needed to, as had been hoping to locate Mrs Samuels on his way through. The maitre’d asked if he would mind waiting for a few minutes and directed him to the waiting area where he was told someone would come and take his drinks order. Napoleon positioned himself against the back wall, so as to scope out the as much of the area as he could. It didn’t take him long to find his quarry. Dressed in a deep turquoise gown, the blonde radiated class as she drank a cocktail. 

Destiny Samuels leaned languidly against the restaurant bar, sipping on her Brandy Alexander. After learning a little about the beautiful man she’d seen earlier she was determined to become very well acquainted with Nathanial Singleton. When she saw him enter the restaurant alone, she knew her chance had come. Without wishing to make her attraction too obvious, Destiny glanced quickly over at him, only to find he was looking right back at her. A broad smile lit up his face and she knew beyond doubt that she had to have him.

Napoleon had been preparing to go over and offer her another drink, when she surprised him by making the first move. He could almost feel his ego swell at the thought he could attract a woman so easily.

“Good evening,” she greeted, holding a hand out for him to kiss. “I hope you don’t mind my presumption, but my husband is occupied with business, and I don’t like to eat alone. I saw that you were also on your own and wondered if you would care to join me.”

“How could I deny a lady in need of a chaperone,” Napoleon told her, as he stood to kiss her hand. “I’m Nathanial Singleton.”

“Destiny Samuels.”

“I hope it won’t cause difficulties with your husband,” he said, as his natural seducing personality came to the fore.”

“Leave him to me,” Destiny purred. “He won’t know anyway as he is meeting with business associate.”

“Are they meeting here?” Napoleon asked.

“I don’t think so. He said he was going out.

Napoleon frowned. If the meeting was to take place somewhere other than the resort, then he and Illya were wasting their time. Still, he knew his partner would be investigating other avenues.

The maitre’d didn’t react as Mr Singleton and Mrs Samuels told him they were eating together. He did, however, warn his boss’s wife that her husband had a table booked for 8:15. He was aware of Mrs Samuels’ dalliances, but he also knew what kind of man Mr Samuels was, so couldn’t blame her.

“Don’t worry,” Destiny cooed as she patted Napoleon’s hand. “We’ll be elsewhere by then.”

Looking into the restaurant from outside, Illya watched as Napoleon worked his magic. Although he hated to admit it, he couldn’t deny that his partner’s way with women was useful at times; not that he was going to tell him that. He felt a little prickle of envy and had to remind himself that he wasn’t too shabby in that department himself, when he needed to be. Illya was very aware of what is eyes alone could do to the opposite sex.

Now that Solo was doing his thing, it was time for Illya to do his. In his guise as a member of the lower orders, it would be easy for him to initiate conversation with one those who do all the work. It was simply a matter of playing on the international bond of the put upon serving classes. Sure enough, he soon found himself ‘sympathising’ with a young waitress who had been forced into working an unwanted double shift.

“I was supposed to see my boyfriend tonight, but Mr Samuels is having important visitors,” Juliette sulked. “Which means, as many staff members as possible are working. I don’t get to see Marin enough as it is.”

“We are but pawns for the wealthy,” Illya stated, with genuine feeling.

“You are so right.”

“Who are the visitors?” Illya asked, sounding very much as though he wouldn’t care if she told him or not.

“I don’t know who they are,” she replied. “Only that there will be three of them, and they will be eating in the restaurant at 8:15.”

…………………………………….

Shortly after 8pm, Illya found himself a seat in the lobby; close the entrance of the restaurant. From his chosen position he could see Napoleon. Given how close he and Mrs Samuels were sitting, the American was clearly having some sort of success; even if it was merely getting her into bed.

A few minutes later, Leo Samuels entered the lobby with three other men. Two of them were quite obviously ‘the muscle’. The third was a man Illya recognised.

Ulysses Clements was known to U.N.C.L.E as a loan shark who became useful to Thrush. In the three years since joining the criminal organisation, Clements had enjoyed a meteoric rise, and was now revelling in his role of heading up the Mediterranean branches. Illya kept his face shielded behind a newspaper. Napoleon was about to find himself in deep trouble, from which he would need Illya’s help to escape; when circumstances allowed. 

The four men reached the restaurant where Samuels stopped suddenly. He waved the maitre’d over to him and demanded to know who the man was who was sitting dangerously close to his wife.

“It’s a Mr Nathaniel Singleton, Sir,” he was told. “An international property dealer.”

A broad grin appeared on the face of Ulysses Clements when he saw the man to whom Samuels was referring.

“Leo, my dear man,” he gushed. “You never said you had a gift for me.” 

“You know him?” 

“Indeed I do,” Clements replied, almost with glee. “And I can tell you that his name is actually Napoleon Solo, and he is a very high level U.N.C.L.E. agent. His capture will more than buy you a way into Thrush’s higher echelons.”

“I’ve had men killed for getting that close to my wife,” Samuels snarled.

“Calm yourself, Leo,” Clements warned him. “He will die eventually, but not before he has given up his secrets. The first of which will be ‘why is he here’?”

Telling his guards to wait where they were Clements, along with Samuels, strode over to Napoleon and Destiny. Without warning, Samuels dragged Destiny to her feet and slapped her hard across the face. Napoleon stood to retaliate but was stopped when he realised who Samuels’ guest was.

“Ulysses Clements,” he stated. “Long time, no see.”

“Indeed, Mr Solo,” the Thrush replied. “Now if you care to look over there, you will see my heavily armed men.”

Napoleon watched as the two heavies pulled their jackets aside to reveal their concealed weapons. Beyond them however, he could see Illya peering over the top of a newspaper. 

“Okay, Clements, let’s get this over with.”

“We’ll go to your private quarters, Leo,” the Thrush told his host.

As they passed through lobby, Napoleon and Illya made eye contact. It wasn’t long enough to look suspicious, but it was more than enough for Solo to know his partner would come for him as soon as he could. 

Illya watched as the five men, and Destiny, had boarded the elevator before dashing over to the stairs. Working on the assumption that Samuels lived on the penthouse floor, he sprinted up the top level, where he arrived in plenty of time to see which of the three penthouse suites they went into. Hidden behind a large potted palm, none of the group noticed the agent. Sneaking back to the stairs, Illya went to fetch some equipment from his suitcase.

Once inside the penthouse, Napoleon was handcuffed to chair by one of the Thrush heavies. Destiny was roughly pushed down on to a chaise longue by her husband. 

“Is it any wonder your wife wanders,” Solo muttered, with contempt. “Women should be treated with respect.”

He’d expected the punch, but that didn’t stop it from hurting; not that he gave anyone the satisfaction of knowing that.

“I will do what I want with my own wife,” Samuels growled. “She belongs to me.”

Napoleon frowned. If there was one thing he hated, it was men who didn’t treat women as people. Those who believed they were nothing more than property absolutely sickened him.

“Now now, Leo,” Clements soothed. “There’ll be time for that later. I have some questions for our guest.”

He nodded to the heavy who had secured the captive to the chair. The man proceeded to grab a handful of Napoleon’s perfectly coiffed hair and pulled his head painfully backwards.

“What do you know?” Clements demanded.

“Well, what would you like to know?” Solo asked. “I know that hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backwards. I know that skin is the largest organ of the human body. I know . . .”

He was stopped by another hard punch to the side of his face, and grimaced as he felt one of his teeth crack.

“Leave him alone,” Destiny screamed, as she launched herself at Clements. She didn’t know why this Solo person was pretending to be someone else, but she was certain he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting.

Naturally, Destiny’s attack failed. The other heavy seized her and pinned her arms to her sides. Clements stroked her face and she tried to turn away from him, prompting him to grab her around the chin and force her to face him.

“You may be beautiful sweet cheeks, but I can easily rectify that.”

With a wink to Samuels, he forced Destiny into a lip crushing kiss. She tried to struggle from the heavy’s grip but he was far too strong for her. As soon as Clements pulled away, she spat into face. This earned her a slap.

“Stop!” 

“Is there a problem, Leo?” the Thrush asked, in a deliberately insulting tone.

Samuels stepped over to Clements and leaned into his face.

“Like I told Solo, this woman belongs to me,” he hissed. “I’m the only one who gets to touch her. I don’t care how important you think you are!”

“Every man who comes within a mile of this place has touched your wife,” Clements mocked. “It seems the only one she doesn’t sleep with is you.”

Samuels’ face reddened with anger and, as he took a step back, he raised a fist to strike the man in front of him. Before he could even begin his swing, a pistol butt, wielded by the first heavy landed hard against the back of the skull. He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Oh,” Clements commented nonchalantly. “Still, it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll just take over without having to negotiate.”

“I think you’ll find that Destiny probably owns the resort now,” Napoleon told him. “And after the way you’ve treated her, I can’t see her wanting to do business.”

Clements’ retort was cut short by the sound of the door bursting open, and Illya Kuryakin striding in. He was wearing a gas mask and was throwing a gas grenade. Napoleon had just enough time to fill his lungs with air before the grenade released its contents. The other occupants of the room were asleep within seconds. Illya fitted Napoleon with a gas mask, then released him from the chair.

……………………………………..

Within a matter of hours, a clean-up crew had arrived to tidy up. Ulysses Clements and his associates were taken into U.N.C.L.E. custody, and Napoleon had arranged for an undertaker to remove the body Leo Samuels.

“She seems to be taking it well,” Illya said to Napoleon, nodding over towards Destiny. 

“I got a glimpse of what she was to Samuels,” Solo replied. “To him, she was nothing more than an object to be owned. I suspect that Destiny Samuels is going to be a very merry widow.”

The lady in question saw them looking and beckoned them over.

“I don’t fully understand what all this was about, but I would like to thank you,” she told them. “I have wanted to leave Leo for a long time, but that would have left me penniless. Before we married I signed a contract stating the only way I would get any money would be if he died. I am now an unbelievably wealthy woman.”

The two agents glanced at each other. Destiny was obviously not going to waste any time in mourning a man she clearly hated. As a rich, young widow, she was going to be the envy of every woman in Monte Carlo.

“I must do something to thank you,” she continued. “Two of the penthouse suites are currently unoccupied, and they are yours, free of charge for the rest of the week, for as long as you like. You may also avail yourselves on everything we have to offer at Le Paradisier.”

“We will be heading back to the states tomorrow afternoon,” Napoleon told her. “But we will take you up on your offer tonight.”

……………………………………..

Illya sank into the soft pillows on the giant bed, and sighed contentedly. He’d enjoyed a long, hot bath, followed by a sizable supper on the balcony. A small voice at the back of his mind tried to tell him that the whole thing was disgusting and decadent, but he silenced it. The assignment was over, and he was uninjured, so he felt he deserved a celebration. It was just a shame it was only for one night.


End file.
